


we loved a love that was more than love

by Magali_Dragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Vampires, Were-Creatures, trials and tribulations of a 2500 year long marriage, vampire queen dany, vampire-wolf jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Vampire Queen Daenerys Targaryen has enough to deal with, maintaining the peace in her kingdom between the vampires, shifters, and pesky wolves in the North. But she’s always got her king, vampire-wolf Jon at her side...even if 2500 years of marriage does cause some tensions.A drabble collection set in thewe shall be monsters universefor Halloween 2020.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 182
Kudos: 569





	1. vampire counseling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany have to go to counseling. For many reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have teased this on tumblr, but this is a drabble collection of Halloween prompts I answered all set in the vampire Jonerys universe I created last year. There is no plot, they are just smutty and silly. I’ll post one a week through October.
> 
> First chapter answers the **_”I can’t believe I fell in love with a werewolf.”_** prompt.

"And tell me Jon, how does that make you feel?"

"How do you think it makes me feel?"

The kind older man with the half-moon glasses and soft blue eyes cocked his head, hands folded over the notepad resting on his knee, and smiled gently. "I'm asking you that question. How does it make you feel?"

Jon scowled; arms crossed defensively over his chest. He didn't know why they were even there. He rolled his eyes. "It hurts!"

"Emotionally?"

"No, physically, I've still got splinters!" He moved to tug at his t-shirt, to show off the wound from the wooden stake that his beloved wife had shoved hard into his side, in an effort to potentially kill him or at least just wound him.

Except Dr. Davos Seaworth sighed, shaking his head and tugged at his glasses, reaching to pinch his nose. "No Jon, not physically."

"This is exactly what I've been saying, he's incapable of emotion!" Dany exclaimed, sitting in the chair beside him. They had to retreat to opposite sides of the room lest they try to kill each other again. She hissed, her fangs out, and her eyes almost black, lip curling disgusted. "2500 years of marriage and he still doesn't understand when to take my feelings into account!"

"Your feelings mean shit when you _stab me in the heart_!"

"I didn't hit your heart, I got your spleen if that!"

Davos sighed again, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He pointed them both back to their corners. "Both of you take a seat please. Jon, can you describe what happened? Look back at your actions before Dany..." He frowned, eyes a little glaze. "Stabbed you?"

He scowled, huffing. "All I did was bring home dinner." He sniffed, still not understanding what the problem was. "And then she stabbed me."

Dany snapped. "What he fails to mention, Dr. Seaworth, is that I asked him to bring me home A positive." She reached to run her index finger delicately on one of her fangs, which overhung her lip. Her bloodred nail matched the color of her lips and the red pantsuit she wore. Her black stiletto hung off her toes, bobbing with the up-down movement of her foot. "He claimed to have come into some fresh A positive, legally of course, and while the synthetic is good enough, I was looking forward to it." She shot him a dark look, violet eyes flashing black. "And he came home with...with.." She snarled in Valyrian.

Davos smiled his kind smile to her again, gesturing with his hand. "In Common Tongue please Daenerys."

" _Wolf blood!_ "

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't know it was wolf blood." He tried not to smile. It was supposed to be a joke. "I thought it was funny!"

"Jon, did you knowingly get blood donated to a bank by a shifter? And give it to Daenerys?" Davos scowled at him. "Remember Jon, we're open here, we need to use our words."

He scowled. "Yes. I thought it was funny."

"Can you see how Daenerys did not find this funny?"

"Not really."

Dany hissed, nails digging into the armrests of the chair, her heels locking down on the carpet as she prepared to spring at him. He hissed back, eyes turning red, mid-shift to wolf. Davos moved his chair between them, a hand going out to either side. "Back off both of you." He sighed. "Jon, can you understand why Dany was upset?"

He shifted in his eat, mumbling. "Maybe."

"And Daenerys, can you see how you may have overreacted by stabbing Jon? You could have seriously harmed him. Perhaps even given him true death." Davos tutted under his breath. He glanced at the clock. "Ah, our time is almost up. Let's end here for the evening, we can come back to it next week. Until then, I would like both of you to think about how the other might view the situation and remember...." He pointed at them both, warning. "We do not stab as a result of anger. Use your words, not your weapons, understood?"

They both mumbled an acceptance. He clapped his hands together and stood, walking over to his desk. "Alright then, I have next week, same time?"

"Yes," they both droned.

"Very good. Until then." He looked at them both again, warning. "Words."

Dany picked at chip in her nail polish, rather bored. "What about fucking?"

"Sex is not a solution either Daenerys, we've talked about this."

"I'm alright with that," Jon said.

Davos sighed, making a note on his notepad. "We'll talk about that next week too. Until then..." he looked up, but Dany was already standing in front of him, while Jon stood with his hands in his pockets near the door, waiting for her to glamour him into forgetting the conversation until next week. It had taken a long time to find a therapist--- Dany's idea not his-- they could trust and could glamour without ill effects. He even contemplated changing Davos Seaworth over because he liked the man so much.

Davos went back to his seat, humming to himself, as Dany grabbed her tote, walking out of the office. He followed after her, sighing hard. "I like him."

"Me too."

"Maybe this was a good idea."

She smirked, heels clicking on the way towards her car. "Did you just say I had a good idea?"

"No," he lied.

At her car, she threw her bag in and turned, grabbing him hard. He moaned as she kissed him, both of them snaking around each other. They didn't care if anyone saw; they never had really and nowadays with the alliance holding firm, no one needed to be bothered by their vampire queen and her wolf hybrid husband. He nipped at her bottom lip, grabbing her arse with both of his hands, grinding her hips up into his. He had to have her. Even in the middle of an empty parking deck. She broke away first, snapping her teeth, fangs fully extended. "Good session," she murmured. She chuckled. "But remember what Davos said."

He groaned. "Fuck me."

"Soon enough Jon. After we get to the root of our problems."

"That you're a raging bitch?"

She laughed. "Well of course."

He grinned. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"You still stabbed me."

"Remember when you broke my neck and threw me off a cliff into the Narrow Sea?"

He rolled his eyes. "You _always_ bring that up."

"I plan to talk to Davos about it next week." She played with the lapel of his jacket, running her fingers up and down the soft silk. He studied her, watching the emotions play across her pale face. She chuckled, almost to herself, and glanced up, whispering. "And also maybe about how I never thought I would fall in love with a werewolf."

They would be alright, he thought, leaning to sweep her up for a kiss. It was just a bad patch. Davos would set them right, like he always did. He dropped her back to her feet and reached into his pocket, his fingers removing a silver dagger. He had it almost to her ribs before she snatched his wrist, turning and snapping it. "Ow!" he exclaimed. The dagger dropped with a clatter to the concrete. He scowled. "What was that for!?"

"Fucking wolf." She snatched the dagger and held it to his throat, eyes blazing. "Were you seriously going to try to stab me?"

"A rib for a rib!"

"I should castrate you."

He gaped. "You wouldn't!"

She laughed, flicking the dagger back to him. He grabbed the handle and shoved it into the small of his back, where he had it stowed before. "We're talking about that with Davos next week. "

"Fine," he grumbled. He kissed her again. "I can't believe I fell in love with a vampire."

"Well you did darling and you're stuck with me for another 2500 years."

"Gods help me," he mumbled, shifting into wolf form and loped after her car as she sped off, heading back to their house. He knew he should work on his _homework_ from Davos, but instead they ended up sprawled out on the couch together, casually drinking from each other and watching a movie, until the next time they pissed each other off. At least they'd keep Davos in business.


	2. lost vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany are lost in the woods. But Jon doesn’t think so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was already posted on my tumblr! It’s in answer to prompt: **_I’m calling it, we are lost in the woods!_**

This was downright impossible, yet here they were.

The branches beneath her feet cracked like lightning across a sky, far louder than they would if she were _normal_. Except she wasn't. She was anything but _normal_ and neither was he, therefore this should be impossible. She huffed out an unnecessary breath, trailing after him through the thicket of trees. "I'm calling it," she announced, stopping in a copse of trees, pinning her hands to her hips. He turned his head, kneeling halfway to get underneath a low bunch of pine fronds. She scowled. "We are lost in the woods."

He barked. Literally. His eyes gleamed red, partially transformed, likely to help them figure out where the _fuck_ they were. She didn't understand why he didn't just go full wolf. "No we're not, I know _exactly_ where we are."

Her lip curled, fangs out. "You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"We've been wandering for two fucking hours Jon!"

"Things have changed in two thousand years _Daenerys_!"

She hissed, the fangs fully extended, and her pupils black, warning. He hissed right back, his fangs out. With the red eyes, fangs, and the claws extending from his hands, if anyone came upon them now, it would certainly be the beginning of a horror movie. Or just another day in the life, she supposed. She warned him. "Don't you get mad at me because you're lost."

"Well don't you get mad at _me_ , because things have grown up around this place in a millennium or two."

"Well you should have remembered!"

"What about you? You should remember too!'

They square doff again, both stubborn, neither giving in. She wasn't about to admit that she'd forgotten where the place was, that yes, things did look a little different from this side of the century. Except, well, he was a damn wolf! He should have some sort of sixth sense thing about him that the vampire side didn't already cover. She strode by him, nose in the air, sniffing and trying to catch a familiar scent, but all she got was him. Sometimes the wolf was hard to overcome. She understood why the other vamps thought he stank.

He growled, as if reading her thoughts, and a moment later was in full wolf, a white blur busting through the trees, leaving a front to smack her in the face. She growled and took off, racing him. To where, who the seven hells knew, she was annoyed. They had given up a perfectly good luxury hotel room with a sunken hot tub the size of a small swimming pool, a gorgeous view of the Haunted Forest from their suite, and a bed that had the softest sheets she'd felt in centuries.

It was their _anniversary_ , godsdamnit, and he was dragging her through the forest on some harebrained mission to find some place where they'd fucked back after they first met, just for fun, and now he couldn't even find the damn place. She was going to kill him for real this time.

In fact....she grabbed hold of a tree branch as she ran, snapping it off, and rushing to him, tackling him into the ground. He rolled with her, both of their rock-solid bodies slamming into the forest floor, disturbing birds and other animals, who knew something _not of this world_ were near. He transformed, rolling with her, and they tumbled out into a clearing. He pinned her down by her wrists, rising over her as she locked her legs around his hips. "What are you doing?" he growled, nipping her lower lip with his fangs.

"I was going to stab you. For old time's sake."

He laughed, barking again. He grinned. "Aye?"

"Aye," she mocked, grabbing the branch and moving to punch it into his abdomen, but he grabbed hold of her wrist, twisting it and rolled, the branch falling to the ground. Leaves stuck to her as she lifted from the ground and stretched over him, planting a long kiss on his mouth. They groaned, letting go of each other's wrists long enough to wrap arms around each other, searching for any available stretch of skin they could, pulling at each other's clothing.

The sound of rushing water filled her senses and she arched her neck up, sniffing. It smelled like winter, like fresh fallen snow and crisp ice. She pushed off of him, stepping hard on his leg to get up. "Fuck," he cursed, rubbing the offending spot. He sneered. "That hurt."

"Fuck you." She followed the scent, breaking through the trees and grinned; she knew where they were. "I don't think we're lost anymore."

"I told you I knew where it was."

"Two hours ago!"

He grabbed hold of her, spinning her around. She swung up onto his back, like a monkey, and he carried her the rest of the way, bringing her to the clearing where many thousand years before there had been a larger clearing, free of trees, between jagged cliffs and rocks. Now the forest had grown over the mountains, the jaggedness dulled, but the waterfalls remained the same. 

She sniffed, remembering how she'd once approached this from above, on the back of her beloved Drogon. She missed him desperately, but dragons didn't live forever. Except her. Except him. "It's as beautiful as before," she sighed, gazing out at the slightly frozen earth, towards the pool of water. The waterfalls hadn't frozen, the snow not near as much as it had been the last time they were here. Except it smelled like it. It felt like it. She sighed, smiling and turned to peer at his face, which he tilted back, still holding her up against him.

He looked very smug for someone who had gotten them lost. "I was right," he said.

She rolled her eyes and slid from his back, walking towards the water. It was cool, spraying up against her skin when she got close enough. Except she knew it would actually be warm, heated from the springs beneath, steam rising up against the cold autumn evening. She turned, just in time to see a blur of pale skin, as he'd already shucked his clothing and dove into the water, emerging as a wolf. 

He whined, flopping onto his back and kicking, before paddling around, clearly happy . "You're going to stink!" she complained. Wet dog was the _worst_. He yipped, not caring, and dove under the water, emerging with a stick. She giggled, pulling at her clothes and jumped into the water with him. 

A moment later, he came up again, this time shaking back his dark curls. "Happy anniversary," he murmured, capturing her lips with his. 

She murmured approval, gripping tight, returning the kiss. A moment later, she sobbed out, as his fangs sank into her neck, drinking up. Her body tingled, burned with pleasure, as the act of feeding from each other, for them, heightened their senses even further, sent them to dizzying levels of ecstasy. "Jon," she moaned, sliding against his slick body. "Oh gods." She saw everything, a fast-moving reel in her mind, all those anniversaries, some spent apart and some together, but always celebrated in their own way. 

From the very beginning, when he first appeared before her, and to this one. She felt him pull back and she kissed him, licking at his fangs, savoring the coppery taste in his mouth. "I love you," he whispered. 

She didn't reply, nothing had to be said. They swam around beneath the moon, no longer lost.


	3. vampire graveyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany reunite, it isn’t as sexy as Jon likes to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for the prompt: **_”Of course the grave at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let’s go there.”_**

The famous ball at Highgarden brought in the richest lords and ladies from all of Westeros, a status symbol they could hold up to their various social circles. " _I_ was invited to the Queen of Thorns's annual Spring Solstice gala," they would boast, then relay all the finery the upper class wore, the new fashions on display, the sumptuous food, and the people—oh the people! the Queen of Thorns, the Dwarf of Casterly Rock, all the wealthy influential types.

Even that gorgeous Valyrian from Across the Sea, what was her name? Does she not age? They would whisper behind their fans and palms, studying her as if she were an exotic bird. They would wonder why she never ate anything but seemed to know _everyone_. Also, why was it that they seemed to bow or curtsey to her, only certain people of course, was she royalty?

Dany lapped it up; she hadn't been back in Westeros in almost 100 years, but returned for this ball, as a favor to Olenna. "Darling," she'd complained, when she'd popped in for a brief visit on her way to Casterly Rock to snap at Tyrion for allowing his men to lay waste to a region outside of Lannisport—causing the humans to send out flyers and newsletters warning of "unnatural blood sucking beasts" in their midst. "It has been _ages_ since you've come to one of my parties. Make an appearance, for old times' sake, yes?" as they shared the blood of a very handsome young Reachman who Olenna was toying with at the time.

She arrived late, as usual, and wandered through the crowds. The fashion of the day was actually quite nice, her hair loose about her shoulders, pulled slightly from her face in her traditional braids. She gathered her skirts, dusting the ground, and scanned everyone, seeing no one she recognized beyond the usual suspects. She sniffed; the overwhelming smell of flowers and perfumes and cigar smoke was almost too much, she was about to shut down the scent when she got a whiff of it.

_Wolf._

"Darling," she murmured, turning slowly, her violet eyes sweeping through the room. She edged by a group of young girls who reminded her of a certain wolf queen in the North and was grateful that _they_ had been quiet since she'd returned to the Western continent. Her heart ached, her body tingling in anticipation.

She left the party, went onto the terrace, and glanced sideways at a couple who gaped at her. "Leave," she ordered, eyes widening on them.

Their heads bowed immediately, compelled to wander away. She leaned against the stone wall, looking out at Olenna's topiaries and fountains. It was quite a different landscape from the first time she was year. What was it, over 1,000 years ago now? Time flew when you were busy being dead.

"Daenerys."

She turned, smiling long and slow, her palm on the stone wall, taking him in. He looked ever the same, but...she scowled. "You shaved your beard." The fashions of the day called for a clean face. He looked like a child. She lifted her lip over her fangs, annoyed. "And cut your hair."

"You don't like it?" he wondered, running his fingers over the shorn curls, which were smooth and swept over his forehead. He smiled, his eyes glinting red in the low electric lamps, Olenna bragging she had the newfound _electricity_ when many in the world were still using candles and fires to light their evenings. He licked his lips; she saw his fangs for a brief second. "You look beautiful as ever."

She reached for him, taking his arms into hers, purring. " _Issa Zokla_."

" _Issa Daria_ ," he purred, lips dropping over hers.

The first kiss was always the best, their bodies reacting immediately to each other. She missed him; she hadn't realized. It had been _years_. About two-hundred, give or take. She longed to be with him, molding against his body. She sighed against his mouth. "When was it last?"

"Pentos?"

"Volantis."

"Ah yes, I remember it well." He nuzzled against her through, his fangs skimming over her jugular. She gasped, already desiring him, feeling his response to her too. He hummed. "I think you tried to kill me."

"Bygones?"

"Let's get out of here."

They rushed away from the terrace, ignoring the onlookers-- no doubt he had his own curious gaggle of women and perhaps some men-- wondering who they were and what they were doing . Olenna rolled her eyes at them, already knowing. She wiggled her fingers in a wave farewell, accepting her wrap from the footman at the door and they went down to the waiting carriage. "You do not have an automobile yet?" she teased. She had four already. She loved them, loved driving, it made her feel like she was on the back of a dragon again, the wind pulling at her hair and stinging her skin.

"Of course," he said, looking offended. He frowned. "It's up North."

"Hmm." They did not speak of his family. She wondered where they believed him to be. What role he was playing in this decade. In the carriage, they sat close, her arms wrapped around his, lips tilted to his face. "Where are you taking me?" She wondered if he had property nearby. The cabin they usually used for these rendezvous outside of their respective areas was too far away.

He grinned. "It's a surprise."

They went off down the road, were a few miles away from Highgarden when they were set upon by a couple of highwaymen, who managed to take down his driver. The horses reared back, alarmed, and she scowled, annoyed they were being waylaid. "I'm hungry," she said, climbing out, in time to see one of the highwaymen jump out, gun pointed at her. She licked her lips, fangs extended. "You'll do."

When they finished, he led her through the woods. She sighed, tracking after him. _I should never follow him anywhere. It never leads to anything good._ She admired his backside as they walked, her skirt lifted up in her hands, but tearing slightly along the bottom as they made their way through twigs and brush. He was quite handsome in the new fashions of the day, black tails and waistcoat, a cravat pinned at his throat. He'd left his top hat in the carriage, unfortunately. It did look quite nice on him.

She ran her tongue over her fang, trying to get the nasty taste of the highwaymen from her mouth. "Are you getting me something better to eat?" she wondered.

"Even better."

"Plenty can be better than that meal." She gazed around, rolling her eyes. "Jon this is not very romantic."

"What's not romantic about a stroll through the woods?"

Her skirt tore on the side of a tree root. Her foot sank into a spot of mud. She growled; these were new shoes from Lannisport! She pulled the skirt hard, tearing it further. "Argh!" She ended up just ripping the whole thing off, marching right by him in the tattered overskirt and her stockings and garters. The corset was tight on her hips, thrusting her breasts up over the top; that part she did enjoy of the new fashions. She smiled slyly at him, pushing through the branches.

And stepped into a graveyard.

Her lip curled over her teeth, eyebrow lifting in disgust. "Of course," she drawled, sarcasm dripping. "The grave at midnight is super sexy and not creepy....let's go there!" She spun on him, annoyed at his smile. "Seriously Jon? You dragged me from Highgarden up here to the middle of nowhere for this?"

"It's been two hundred years darling." He grabbed her around the waist, twirling her towards his chest, smacking hard against it. He rubbed his mouth over hers, his bare lip and cheeks rather strange under her touch. She pushed at him, thumb brushing over it, still scowling. He twitched his upper lip. "You don't like it?"

"I despise it."

He pursed his lips. "It's the fashion of the day."

"At least it is better than that hideous little pencil thin thing you had fifty years ago." She caught her misstep as she moved from him, cringing when his laugh filled the still space. _Damn!_ She glanced over her shoulder. "I didn't..."

He beamed. "You've been keeping tabs on me, aye?"

"No!"

"Hmm, remember our last time? Two hundred years ago, in Pentos...”

“Volantis.”

“For the Triarch birthday celebrations. I remember it vividly." He ran his thumb over her lower lip, trailing it down to her jawline, tilting her head back as he loomed over her, fingers digging into the base of her neck. He growled, wolfish, eyes red. Her breathing increased, her body reaching closer to him. "We made love under the stars, in the water gardens, and then you broke my neck."

"Hmm...I did." She sighed, regretful. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. She really couldn’t remember why she’d done that. He probably deserved it. Or maybe it had something to do with his atrocious family. They often were the root cause of their arguments. _Spats_ , she liked to call them.

He pushed her up against a tree, the moonlight gleaming off the stone tombstones around them. Her ears pricked, hearing footsteps and humans giggling. “We’re not alone,” she reminded him, as he began to lift up the remains of her skirts, his fingers finding she had not bothered with undergarments. His eyes blackened and his fangs emerged, nose curling at the scent of her. She purred. “But then you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he growled, diving in and feasting, her moan long and high, panting through the pleasure that filled her, warmed her from within, as he drank from her. It was sinful ecstasy, her hands freeing him from his trousers, guiding him towards her dripping cunt. He slid his fingers through her wetness, holding her against the tree as he drove into her. She cried out again, his wolfish howl joining in.

 _”What was that!?”_ a voice called.

_”Probably nothing.”_

Dany lifted Jon’s hand from her cunt, licking at his fingers, tasting herself on them and moaned again. She held his wrist up to her mouth, fangs gliding on the pulsing vein as he drove into her, again and again, fucking her like they’d never fucked before. Sometimes they had to do it like this; they’d make love later, back in one of their homes scattered across the country. Perhaps even the quaint cabin he kept just inside the boundaries of the Northern territory.

She sank her teeth into him, as he continued to drink from her, and let go, hissing her warning to the humans who still lurked nearby in the graveyard. “Leave!” she ordered, putting the command in her tone.

They screamed, running off, no doubt believing there were angry, wanton spirits about. She cried out as she came, hard and fast, and he let go of her neck long enough to shout out hoarsely as he came. They fell against each other and then to the ground, slamming hard and cracking the ground from the force. She forgot her strength sometimes. Forgot how with him she could release it all, the energy she felt.

The blood she’d drank for the last two-hundred years was nothing compared to when she had him; she saw everything, senses aflame. They did this to each other. Jon panted, heaving breaths against her neck. He licked at the bite marks on her neck, soothing and healing them. “I love you,” he murmured, gently kissing her.

 _Oh how I love those words_ , she thought, shivering. They did more to her than any fucking with him could do. It had been so long since she last heard them whispered, she sometimes forgot what it was like. Then he reminded her. Her beloved wolf. She gazed at him, love shining. “I love you too.” After a moment, she pushed him off of her and stood, collecting herself. He adjusted his trousers and offered her his hand. She smirked. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Of course, my queen.” He batted his lashes, smirking. “Anything for you.”

”Mmm...” She grabbed his lapels, dragging him with her. “So show me.”


	4. vampire firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany meets her first vampire-wolf hybrid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in answer to my boo Riry_7 who requested two prompts, the first being **Do you dare me?** which is this drabble.
> 
> Enjoy!

She saw them, she was sure she did.

Nothing ever got by her, neither prey nor predator. She was the top of the chain; she was the Queen. All the abilities afforded their kind—super sensitive hearing, scent, and above-average strength. The ability to glamour to persuade and to force forgetfulness. Some even had the ability to _fly_ , just by jumping from location to location, going airborne. She had all of that and more, including the ability to see through glamours, to even glamour her own kind. She as the queen.

She hadn't taken anyone to bed in a considerable amount of time. not since Daario and she'd grown bored of him. He was somewhere in Essos at the moment; she could go visit him when she wanted, if she wanted. He wasn’t bad in the bedroom. In fact he prided himself on it. It had been his confidence as a lover that intrigued her. Anyone who continually put themselves in front of the Queen of Vampires claiming they could be the best she'd ever had, well they were risking their life doing that, so she decided to play with him a bit.

It had been decades; she didn't need it the way humans claimed they did.

Then this mysterious bastard from the North appeared in her throne room, speaking of a threat beyond the Wall, of dead men walking. "I am dead," she laughed at him, holding a glass of blood in her fingers, drained from one of the ship of slavers she kept off the shore for her meals. They deserved it after all, trying to enslave people. Now they were the ones who were enslaved to her, as punishment. "You come to me, asking for assistance in what? Killing my own kind? You are stupid Bastard of Winterfell."

except it hadn't been just that. They had been dead men, men she'd seen with her own eyes, pledged to fight with him. He needed her dragons, her beloved sons, and then he would assist her in deposing Cersei Lannister, who pretended to be the queen. Wolves, she'd sneered, smelling the stench on him the second he walked in. There had been something under that overwhelming smell of wet musty dog. She'd gagged at first, as had Tyrion and Missandei, Grey Worm would have, if he weren’t so disciplined.

Vampires and wolves, becoming allies? It was insane, but it would work. For just a brief moment, then they could negotiate.

She'd been shocked when he knocked on her door, standing there on the other side He smiled at her, long and slow. "Good evening Your Grace."

"Good evening..." she trailed off, remembering that the North stayed independent; she would not control the wolves just yet. She tilted her head, smirking. "Your Grace."

He lifted his dark brows; a brief bit of nervousness hung about him; she smelled it. "May I come in?"

This could be fun, she thought, sizing him up. She liked the look of him. The smell she could get used to, she supposed. She arched a brow, reaching to tug at the top of her long red robe, made from fine Essosi silk, far too thin for the coolness of Westeros-- the unnatural chill on Dragonstone from this so-called Night King, this wolf claimed to her. She'd seen him transform, a beautiful white beast with red eyes when he did. He referred to his wolf form as "Ghost."

Her finger dragged over the swell of her breast, teasing him. She licked her lips, crimson, keeping her fangs locked in. She'd never had a wolf before. "If you come in," she murmured. "I don't fancy talking much."

He smiled; his eyes glinted red and he was more wolfish than he'd ever seemed to her before, even in his human form. "I didn't plan on talking much myself." He licked his lips, drawing her attention to his fine white teeth, glinting against his dark beard. "My mouth should be busy with...other things."

And so it had been. Delightfully so. So delightful, she'd never actually experienced that pleasure before, stunned when he'd lowered his mouth from hers, scattered kisses along her breasts, teased her nipples, and then instead of moving back up to her mouth again, he continued over her belly, his tongue darting around her navel and then to her cunt, before he dipped in and...she believed in no gods, but she screamed for them regardless. She made a note to have Daario killed; she couldn't be bothered to do it herself. Claiming he would be the best fuck she’d ever had? When there was this man out there? Ha!

She had been so consumed, unable to help herself, her fangs extending, forcing herself to keep from drinking him; she'd made a pact that she wouldn't do so a spart of their alliance, and wondered if she could glamour him, but she had been so delirious, her head tossing about on the pillow, that when he rose up over her, she swore she saw it, in the candlelight streaming over his face.

Fangs.

Except he'd kissed her suddenly and she didn't feel them in his mouth again, although he felt hers, licked at them, murmuring how beautiful she was, what he wanted to do to her. She silenced him, pushing it from her mind, but she knew she hadn't imagined it.

Now as she lay against him, her fangs extending at the memory of it, she wondered. "Have you always been a wolf? I'm afraid I'm not versed on the...process I guess." She dragged her finger over his collarbone, rolling her eyes up, watching his face, rather impassive. His eyes were shut. 

He sighed. "We're born like this. We are not made."

"And your family then? Was it your mother or father, or both?"

"Mother," he whispered. The heart under her hand beat, just a tad faster. He schooled it down. He rolled his gray eyes towards her, smirking. "I don’t know my father. Remember? I'm a bastard."

She pursed her lips; she hated those words. She cocked her head. "Have you ever had a vampire drink from you?" she murmured, watching the pulse in his neck. It teased her, thudding just beneath the cool pale surface. A muscle ticked in his jaw. He rolled his eyes towards her, saying nothing. She reached her finger towards it, dragging the tip of it down. He shivered underneath her. She rose slightly, smiling over her fangs, her eyes darkening. She purred. "Do you dare me?"

Maybe if she challenged him to do it; she could kill him; he could kill her too-- maybe. It violated their agreement. He could claim there was nothing consensual. There was danger in it. He narrowed his eyes, whispering. "Dare you to what?"

"Bite you."

"How is it a dare?"

"I could do something in return..." She licked her lips, arching her brows, whispering. "Vampire blood is...intoxicating." She reached to her wrist, breaking the skin, her crimson blood trickling down her arm, stark against the whiteness of her skin and matching the red silk of the sheets twisted around them both. 

And she saw it again; his nostrils flared, pupils widened, and he kept his lips pressed shut. There was a slight raise, just above his upper lip. _He has fangs._ She was intrigued. She leaned closer, pushing her wrist towards his lips. A drop fell, his tongue darting out of its own accord. She panted, needing him. "Just a little taste...you'll love it." Her eyes fixed on his; glamouring him. 

He opened his mouth further, focused on her, and allowed her to drop a few more bits into his mouth. And just when she was going to lean towards his neck, to get her taste, she yelped, flying backwards, stunned that she hadn't seen it, his reflexes fast, _as fast as mine._ She grinned, staring up, his hands pinning her to the bed. She struggled, but he didn't move. And he didn't breathe. 

"What are you?" she asked, fascinated. 

He chuckled. "Something no one has seen before."

She licked her fangs, whispering. "Show me. Show me Jon Snow."

Hesitation flickered over his rather aquiline features, for someone from the far North, he was considerably beautiful. She'd heard tell his mother had been gorgeous, and she had to imagine his father had to be as well, to create something so perfect. Something so unique, she thought, watching as his lips pulled over his teeth and revealed his fangs, his eyes blackening and a ring of red around them. He smiled. "Now you know."

"A hybrid." There were no vampire and wolf hybrids. He was the only one. She wanted to know how. Except she also wanted to taste. She reached her finger to touch the fangs. She smiled, brows arching again. "May I?"

The struggle pulled across his face and he sat up, bringing her with him. She slid into his lap, touching her fingers along his neck. After a moment, he tilted his head and she smiled, nuzzling the soft skin at the crook of it. She inhaled him; the wolf scent was no longer as overwhelming as it had been, it was now spicy and woodsy-- vampire. She kissed the pulse and scraped her teeth to the skin. He shivered and gasped, and then she broke it. It flooded into her body and she gripped him as he wrapped his arms around her. 

And then she cried out, breaking from him as his teeth sank into her neck. "Oh gods," she exclaimed, seeing stars. 

_What is happening between us?_

Something moved underneath them, a shift in the ground, the world disappearing and leaving just them in its wake. She held on tight, unable to stop, and when she broke, she realized she'd made a terrible mistake. She'd dared Jon Snow, but she had been the one who fell for it instead.


	5. vampire love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany go to Valyria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last drabble for now. If I have more I will add them here. Enjoy!
> 
> This is for the prompt **“I’m not scared!”**

The ruins of Valyria were some of the most impressive creations man had ever dared to make. Until of course the Valyrians touched too close to the sun. They challenged the gods, they played with fire, and they got burned. So to speak. 

She wondered when they had first discovered the ability to create immortals, who yes, had to subsist on a consistent diet of human blood to stay alive, but in exchange received their various abilities. If they had worked so hard on that, they should have focused more on finding a way to keep the dragons alive forever. She had dared to even try to turn her beloved Drogon, but it hadn’t worked. The curse of their gifts, she supposed, as she contemplated what the Valyrians had wrought upon the world. Anyone today didn’t claim heritage with the Valyrians, but in her time they did. 

Even the ones like Tyrion and Olenna, they were turned by those who had been turned by someone with a foothold, an ancestry of sorts, in this mystical place. She hadn’t thought of Tyrion in a long time. The true death for him had been quick, not that he had deserved it. She narrowed her gaze on the smoke rising over the craggy islands scattered along the various inlets between the islands. She pushed away from the balcony of the tower she’d decided to call her own, wandering back into the bed chamber.

Only within the last hundred years had she begun to journey here. Homes across the globe, yet she had never actually been to where her ancestors originated. Drogon had, she was sure of it, but something kept her from truly seeing it until she’d received a raven from Samwell Tarly, who had made it his home, looking to uncover its mysteries. He’d created the synthetic blood there. Lived there with his wife and made something of it. Only their kind could survive there.

She wandered over to the bed, climbing up onto it and straddled Jon’s hips, pressing herself down onto his back. He groaned, eyes still shut, hugging a pillow. “Wake up,” she ordered, snapping at his earlobe. She slapped his arse, curving out from under the sheet. “I want to go explore.”

“Hmpfrgrump.”

It didn’t’ sound like any language she knew, so she ignored him. It was Jon Snow Speak, which could be anything. She reached around under his hips, squeezing his cock, already semi-hard. She purred into his ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He opened one eye. “Tempting,” he mumbled. He rolled slightly, gazing out the open arches, his nose wrinkling. He whined. “It’s _sunny_.”

“Hmm, and you can survive the sun, come on. It won’t be for too long, I want to go looking around.” 

They got up, ‘ate’ breakfast, and ventured out. She led him to an area of the island where she’d settled that she hadn’t explored before, full of collapsed towers and intricate caves; Sam had warned her of the various dangers and mysteries that still lurked in Valyria, to be careful. She knew; she had other reasons for venturing around. 

They poked around a bit, but she noticed Jon shying away from certain areas; his nose and ears twitching slightly, the wolf uneasy. She stepped through a dark archway of a tower of shining black dragonglass, peering in, her eyes adjusting immediately to the lack of light. She shined her torch down one of the tunnels. “Come on Jon, it looks fine.”

“No.” The resolute way he said it had her turning towards him. He shook his head, defiant. “No,” he repeated. He chewed his bottom lip, rocking back and forth on his heels. He tugged nervously on the sleeves of his black long-sleeve tee. A hard look settled in his steel gray eyes. Defensively, he exclaimed. “I’m not scared!”

It must have been her amused look that had him protesting. She smirked. “I didn’t say anything about you being scared.”

“It’s just…it’s dark.”

“You’re not afraid of the dark Jon. You basically _are_ the dark.”

“We don’t know what’s down there.”

“That’s the fun.”

“I have a bad feeling.”

“You get those and they never come true.” She waved her hand at him and trotted down the path. “Suit yourself. Stay there. Take on the Bloodwyrms or whatever comes for you on your own.”

“ _Bloodwyrms!_ ”

A moment later, he was practically on her back, his trembling so poweful she could _feel_ it in her bones. She was about to tell him to knock it off when she was pretty sure she felt something against her feet. She froze. Blinked. “Jon?” she murmured. “Was that you?”

“No,” he croaked.

A long, low grumble echoed in the dark corridors. She swallowed hard, the torch in her hand bobbing. She took a step backwards. _It’s silly. There’s nothing here._ “Well maybe…there’s nothing here. We should go…” She didn’t now what it was, but suddenly something moved right against them both, furry and dark, almost a slither. That was it, she was done. That _wasn’t_ Jon.

It wasn’t him because her king, her terrifying wolf, let out a shrill scream—more of a howl—before disappearing beside her. She shrieked, threw the torch in the general direction of the darkness, and ran as fast as she could go, blurring streak out of the corridor, screaming for Jon to hurry up. She emerged out of the cave, not needing to breathe, but grabbing for her belly just the same, turning and expecting to see him behind her, but he wasn’t. 

“Jon!” she cried out, horrified. “Jon!”

She didn’t have the flashlight anymore and the cave got so dark even her super eyes couldn’t see through the blanket of it. She cried out, panicked, running back to the entrance. “Jon! Oh gods, are you alright? _JON!_ ” She ran into the first part of the cave, screaming for him. “Fuck, if he’s gone…I never should have brought him…” She was practically crying, her tears bleeding down her cheeks. “Jon! No!”

“Aw, fuck.”

The sound of him behind her dropped her to her knees. She grabbed at the ground, holding tight, whipping around to stare at him. He was standing on the outside of the cave, looking sheepish. “Jon?” she whispered. She was so confused. She whipped back around to the cave. “What…where did you…” She jumped up, embarrassed, horrified, pissed…elated he wasn’t dead. Very angry that he was still alive. She was going to _murder_ him! “You bastard!”

He ducked his head as she lunged for him, slamming him into the side of another building. It trembled from the force. “I’m sorry!” he laughed. He grabbed her wrists, to keep her from punching him ,but that didn’t stop her from snapping her fangs, trying to bite him. “I thought it would be funny! Sam helped me…it’s a robot thing he rigged up.” He shrugged, apologetic. “Happy Long Night?”

The stupid human holiday. The one where they celebrated their sacrifices in the great war against the Night King by dressing up and playing tricks on each other. She _hated_ humans. She glowered at him, still unamused. “Not funny,” she growled. 

“Kind of funny. Glad to know you’d miss me.”

“Well now I won’t!”

“You gonna’ kill me?” He leaned in, still holding her wrists, pulling them up to wrap around his neck. He nibbled her bottom lip. “I should have you know, you’ve tried to break my n eck so many times, it just mighst stick, so I wouldn’t risk it.”

She seethed; they had been together without a fight for a few years now. After his family sacrifice, the new alliance, nothing seemed worth it to fight about any longer. This was a very difficult thing to just forget, however. She would have to get him back at some point. Soon enough. She sniffed, dramatic, and pushed at his chest, her fangs emerging. “You do that again and maybe I will kill you.”

He smiled wide. “I love you.”

“Somehow I still love you too.” She kissed him, grateful he was alive, he was with her, and already thinking of how she could terrify him back.


End file.
